From the Bottom
by Livin.Yo.FantasI
Summary: The need to love and be loved; the want to have someone to hold up and someone to hold you up. The helpless and the helpful indulge in each other; in other words, the Delacruz twins. Roxas and Ventus are two lost souls scratching and kneading their way up from the bottom, trying to get out of the rut they'd tripped in after their parent's death nine years earlier...See More Inside.


**From the Bottom**

**Summary:** The need to love and be loved; the want to have someone to hold up and someone to hold you up. The helpless and the helpful indulge in each other; in other words, the Delacruz twins. Roxas and Ventus are two lost souls scratching and kneading their way up from the bottom, trying to get out of the rut they'd tripped in after their parent's death nine years earlier. The stronger their bond, the better their lives would be. Nothing can stop them, no obstacle can overcome and corrupt them wholly-not their past, not the drugs, not the bullies, not the poverty, not the system... but unfortunately, not everyone has the chance to be on top.

**Pairings:**** [**Implied Roxas/Ventus], Vanitas/Ventus, Axel/Roxas.

**Rating:**Mature.

**Genres:**Hurt/Comfort/Romance/Angst/Family

**Author:**~FantasI

**Warnings: Drug abuse, Under age sexual activity, Homosexual & Hetrosexual relationships, Coarse language, Death, Corrupt system(school, foster care...)  
If any others are not mentioned, please let me know and I shall add the triggers.**

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Kingdom Hearts. Everything belongs to their rightful owners, I'm just using my imagination.

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**Alcohol, Drugs, Sex, & Listerine**

_Boom. Boom. Boom._

The sound of boots against thick wood, the sound of it cracking under the pressure of such a muscular force struck him, forcing his physical being to remain completely still in the corner of his shared bedroom. His thoughts and his heart raced, drumming in his ears, not halting a single moment to give him any time to comprehend what it was that was going on. Was this a raid? Was he in trouble? What did he do wrong? Should he hide or should he go out there and surrender? All these questions sped around in circles, there one second and gone the next only to return once more. He was confused, to say in the least. Worry, confusion, and utter fear were what he was made of at the given time.

Howls of pain and surprise arose from the first floor, making the boy cringe and withdraw further into the corner in which he sat. He inhaled sharply, holding the intake of oxygen for moments as he stared into the darkness. The wailing never halted, the string of curses and commands didn't either. The breath he had been holding finally released itself, the pressure in his chest having grown too much to bear. His eyes squeezed shut, his head tilting back to rest against the hard yet thin wall standing behind him. His breathing was ragged, rapid, and his hands lay in his lap curled into balled up fists. His knuckles, if the light were on, would have been strained and forced to shad themselves white.

How was he supposed to get out of this? There was no way out of this, he thought. He was definitely going away again. There were then hurried steps racing up the hollow stairs just mere feet from his bedroom door. His breath hitched and his eyes popped open when the pounding of steps came to the top of the stairs and landed in front of his door; said door was threw open, a single specimen clambering their way into his domain, leaving the door ajar as he did so.

He couldn't make the person out, the dark of the second level engulfing everything and anything that stood five feet from the boarded up window across the room above his single mattress and headboard. The person was making their way over to him, and relying on instinct, the boy in the corner threw himself to the side to dodge the intruder's flailing limbs. "Stop," the intruder hissed, "stop moving, dumbass."

That voice, he recognised it. Upon identifying the person, he sighed a breath of momentary relief before sliding his way back over the corner where he found the body of the familiar person huddled, shivering. "What the hell is going on?" He asked the new comer, his tone harsh and full of bewilderment. This person, he wasn't pleasant to be around at the given moment; he reeked-reeked of cancerous smoke, alcohol, and sex...how distasteful. Although, this scent was what he'd come to withstand. It engulfed him too, for the most part...subtracting the scent of sex; his nose crinkled ever so slightly still, the scent unappealing and objectionable and stronger than he'd ever sniffed.

"I said wha-"

"Shut the fuck up, Ven!" The other seethed, clasping a hand directly over Ven's cavity. Ven, as he had been called, didn't resist the advancement made to keep him muffled-he merely sat there in a dumbfound state. The first floor was quieting down, the voices now blaring from the outdoors more so than from within the walls of the house. Finally working up the courage to attempt and speak again, Ven tugged the extremity from his kisser.

"We have to get out of here."

"You think I don't know that?" The other voice responded harshly, sending an invisible yet stone hard glare at the Ven character. "I'm thinking, but..." The voice paused, the sound of a forced gulp evident in the dead air around the two sifting in the corner. "I don't...the window is planked...?"

He cut the other off. "There's no way out, is there?" Silence sat between them, but it was enough confirmation. Without any hesitation, Ven took a stand and dragged the other up with him. "We're screwed anyways," He, Ven, muttered, nearly tripping over his own feet as he dragged the other male up and off the splinter-worthy floor he had situated his behind upon beforehand. There was no way out of this, it was quite evident-especially when the lights flickered on in the hallway, letting the wots reveal the boys from their hiding place in he bedroom corner. Ven gulped as uniformed men dashed up the meager staircase, the door the other male had left open exposing them to the first officer and his raised gun. A "hands where I can see them" brought the arms he'd thought had lost circulation above his head-he assumed the other did the same, noting that two uniformed men hurried their way in to restrain them.

Resistance was futile, nothing good was to come of it, he realized that...his companion had a different idea, possibly believing that he could worm his way out of restraint and leave the officer hanging, but the man that had tackled him to the hard ground with a rambunctious thud before such wonders could ensue. Yelps and pleas escaped the boy on the ground as he struggled for freedom-the surrendered boy with his elbows twisted behind his back in a painful contradiction couldn't bear to watch the scene unfold keeping his eyes trained on his old worn out sneakers. Occasionally he would catch a flailing limb in the corner of his eye, causing him to shrink into himself. It was painful to watch the failing attempts of prerogative acts and he couldn't handle much more of the wailing that was invading his ear canals.

"Just shut up and let them take you."

Wailing continued, but the frantic endeavour ceased as commanded about a minute or so after the remote words parted from his tongue into the air. The officer had finally been able to pick the crying boy up from the ground and signalled the other officers it was alright to advance. They led the two boys from the dark cavern into the light of the hallway which took a quick instant for the boys to grow accustomed to the brightness, and then they were forced to descend down the steep staircase, the two of them nearly tripping over their own feet as they stepped hurriedly.

The stairs lead to a smoky atmosphere, and the stench of urine, cigarette smoke, alcohol, with the faintest hint of Listerine lingered in the air surrounding the bodies still inhabiting the small amount of space that was the kitchen, dining room, and sitting area. It was open, and a rather large mess. It was questioned as to whether or not the uniforms created it all, or if it had been like this from the start. No surprise would spring out if the mess had been there from the start.

Chairs had been knocked over, couch cushions and pillows lay on the floor torn and old and dishevelled, a television smashed on the wall, the stereo system overturned along with a side table and a newly damaged lamp, and dishes sprawled out every which way. Glass lined the floor and socked feet were forced to tread over it all, along with sticky substances and stains carpet and tile. The wallpaper was curling up, removing itself from the drywall, and a window's glass littered the floor from a broken window near the front entrance...what a shit hole.

A hiss breaks out from the man labelled Ven as he stumbles over glass fragments, but the uniform doesn't hold up, merely pushing him forward and out the front door that hang by a single hinge. It falls once the uniform thrusts him through the doorway and out into the brisk crispness of the night. They're greeted with police cruisers and the flashing red and blue lights that sit perched on the roofs, and the citizens of neighbouring houses linger behind other uniforms who suppress information, intrusion, and contamination. The people of the street chat amongst themselves, perplexed by the situation at hand and curious to see what is to happen next.

The boy who had been called Ven keeps his eyes cast to the grass, not wanting to meet any of those peoples' gazes. Embarrassment and shame cast a heavy cloud overhead and he had to suppress a sob when hearing near by neighbours ridicule him for what he hadn't done. The had-been wailing boy had been quiet since he'd practically been dragged down the stairs until this moment.

"What the fuck are you all looking at?" He sneered, sending a nasty glare towards those who dared to watch him and his arrest. "Go back home and mind your own goddamn business, you fucking crows." He shouts, spitting in the direction of the folk who had gasped upon their, his and Ven's, arrival. When the people merely turned up their noses and continued to watch with minor curiosity and abhorrent, the boy began to lose control, growling at the officer restraining him. He lashed out, kicking and squirming, trying his darndest to free himself. Fortunately for the boy, it had worked with the help of a swift crack to the officer's jaw with the brute force of a head jerk.

Seeing as how he was free, Ven's head perked up in alarm and he too began to struggle, yelling at the boy to stop and to calm down before he got hurt. The officer who'd tried his hardest to keep the boy at bay chased after him, fumbling around his belt for a weapon as the boy advanced towards the crowd who stood astonished for about a moment until the uniform caught the boy's feet, tearing him down to the grassed ground.

The boy who'd freed himself had his heart set on knocking a couple of those bystanders to the curb, his arms outstretched and risen to smash in a head or two-it had been cut short by him toppling to the ground and his arms being restrained. Ven, who had gotten an arm free in that time, had grief and a pinch of poignancy written all over his face as he watched the other being restrained once more.

Before anything was to be registered cold, hard metal met his jaw and everything else above his hip bones. A groan raised itself from his throat as his arms were yanked back behind him more painfully than before and cuffed with tight and painful metal. Ven sighed for a moment, letting his eyelids blanket his eyes before there was a sudden impact on the hood of the car he lay upon, and to which he opened his eyes to cobalt and blonde much like his own-a mirror image with only a few flaws; a bloody nose, a black eye, and a cocky smirk displayed itself upon the mirror image. Dishevelled yet still rugged and handsome... 

Ven cussed under his breath, a deep frown painting itself upon his lips as he stared at that boy-that boy he was almost sorry to call his brother, Roxas.

"I blame you." He murmured, scorn lining each word as he stuttered them out.

That cocky smirk never disappeared, proudly displaying itself whether it be true emotion or just for show, and Roxas whispered back, "I do it all for you." A cringe from the other party racked it's way through Ventus' body as those words were spoken.

The night ended with faint sirens and engines, as far as Ventus was concerned; though, it didn't matter. He was off to jail beside his little brother again for the second time that month. Roxas was slouched in his seat, babbling on about something Ventus had no care about...instead, he turned away and muted the world around him as best he could, a soft buzzing left it the surrounding's presence as he gazed off into the solar system far above this hell ridden world.

This was all too familiar, all too ordinary for them. It happened too often that the two would be dragged down to the police station due to stupid decisions and lack of parenting-it all ended the same, too. Questioning would ensue after identification, then they would wait seated and cuffed to a bar until a woman with the kindest heart came to rescue the two boys from the grasp of the "rehabilitation station" by bailing them out...after all, they were only minors. It wasn't their fault directly, just their pasts' fault.

Although they were minors...

They had hit the place known as "_rock bottom_".

It was time for a _change_.

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**A/N: WOW **_**IT FEELS GREAT TO UPLOAD SOMETHING AGAIN.**_**  
So, I accept constructive criticism, and I believe that it is much needed after my two year absence. I actually have a really sweet yet very general plot for this fic, and the crazy thing is I actually have everything figured out to the very end. Yay.  
Another thing, this chapter is moving quickly because that's sort of how situations like so are played out-they just happen so quickly and you don't even realize it. I tried to fit in as much detail as I could without making it sound utterly-for a lack of a better word-stupid. So, yes, this chapter moved quickly, but the next one shall be longer and played out a lot smoother. I swear to it.**

**c:  
I promise I will NOT give up on this fic if I get reviews. Cross my heart.**

**Please, R&R and like I mentioned before, constructive criticism is welcome and needed. **


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